The Night Mother's Truth
by DragonflyxParodies
Summary: The Listener has finally asked what none have before, and the Night Mother's biggest secrets are about to be revealed. As history paints a white-haired Dunmer's life, the Listener must travel into the heart of Cyrodiil to confront demons better left to lie, accompanied by the only Brotherhood member with working knowledge of the Empire. /...This is by design, my dear Listener.../
1. Chapter 1

_"Cicero showed me a book, Mother. A couple, actually. About you and the Brotherhood. I…I wanted to know if you could tell me the truth. Your story...If you don't mind."_

xXxXxXxXx

Family is an important part of the Dark Brotherhood. It makes up who we are, what we stand for, and what we believe in. It is a refuge for those with no one, offering a sanctuary for those who need companionship, friendship….Or love.

This is by design, my dear Listener.

You must know that I write this down, fully aware that anyone could read this. I suspect that our Brotherhood has made powerful enemies, by the time I reveal this story to you. But…I believe that this must be known, written down and recorded, and so I take that chance.

Sithis has not given me any sort of power with which to tell the future, my dear. No Elder Scroll graces my lap, no seer whispers in my ear, no magic weaves a pattern before me. I do not know whether you are male or female, whether you are young or old, whether you are Argonian or Altmer. I do not know whether you are a hero of great stature, a product of noble birth or of unremarkable blood.

What I do know is that you are remarkable, for it is you that can hear my voice, and only you.

And I know that I love you, my….our, as Sithis reminds me, child.

Out of all of the Listeners that have heard my voice, only you have asked about our history. It is because of that that I have directed you towards where this lies. Where the story of the Brotherhood, where my own story, is hidden.

So we will start at the very beginning, but perhaps not at the beginning you believe.

See, there are beginnings before birth.

xXxXxXxXx

You know loneliness, my Listener. How can you not have? The life of an assassin is quiet, always born of something agonizing and sorrowful. But do not ever think you know loneliness in the way your father does.

He was forced into a battle with his only brother. After, Sithis was sent to the Void.

The Void is his realm. It's his Paradise, and his Oblivion. For the longest time, my Listener, he was alone. Expelled from direct contact with the planes he had helped create, he had nothing.

Can you imagine that? Such all-consuming loneliness? Mortals would have gone insane-but Sithis was not allowed that mercy. Insanity is not for those that came before the Aedra, you see?

That is where the devotion to sending souls to the Void comes in. Each soul that enters helps Sithis, alleviates the crippling loneliness that haunts him. One day, my dear, you will enter the Void. You'll meet your other siblings, other Contracts, and of course your father-he is not a cold deity. He cares for all of you.

He hasn't told me why he chose me, and I doubt he ever will, my Listener. I assume it was the same way I chose you-It is Sithis that gives me the power to find someone open to the Void. I must have been more open to the Void than most others.

He told me that there is a place filled with innumerable sparks, each a soul destined for one of the planes. At the moment of my conception, when my spark began to travel to Nirn, he touched it.

Now, that isn't an altogether unusual thing to do. The Aedra do it, and those they touch become priests or followers, devotees and heroes destined to work in their favor. The Daedra occasionally do it as well, but for the fathers of those great entities to do so? It was rare. In Sithis' case, unheard of.

It doesn't necessarily mean that soul will follow the path that is willed for them, my dear. Rest assured you finding family and home in the Brotherhood is entirely of your own will. The greater powers that influence Mundus cannot force you into a destiny you do not wish to be woven for you. It is we, the mortals, that force each other into imaginary roles we believe we have no choice but to follow-prophecies are our own creations.

When this event occurs, however, it leaves a physical mark on the soul's body.

And that is why I was abandoned as a newborn.

xXxXxXxXx

_"...Cheydinhal."_

_Quiet descended on the Brotherhood at once. Nazir froze at the cooking pot, Babette looked up from her book, and the two Initiates-Rava Black-Oak and Matew Intav-gaped. That didn't surprise her. Cicero's reaction, however, did. He didn't abruptly stop, or turn to look at her like the others had. He went absolutely still, and absolutely quiet, his back to her._

_"What's in Cheydinhal?" Nazir asked finally, cautiously breaking the silence. Nora shifted her weight from foot to foot before answering._

_"Documents. Important documents that the Night Mother left….a long time ago. She wants me to go retrieve them."_

_"After the Penitus Oculatus razed the Sanctuary to the ground? You really think papers are going to be left after that?! And what in Sithis' name makes you think they've lasted since the Second Era?" Nazir demanded. His unease was shared by all of those at the table-Nora couldn't blame them. They'd sought a Listener for so long and had finally found one, at the expense of most of their organization. For her to walk into what had to be a closely monitored trap…._

_"Yes. These books-or book, I'm not sure how many there are-cannot fall into the Oculatus's hands." She said firmly, shoving away her own doubts._

_"What would be so important that Mother would send you into Cyrodiil, Listener?" Cicero's voice was quiet-softer than any of them had ever heard it-with no hint of his usual madness. The Jester turned to face her, eyes hard and face grave. He appeared terrible-a thousand times more frightening than he had been when she had fallen from the Night Mother's coffin, when he had believed her to have committed sacrilege._

_"Mother…when she was alive…she wrote what had happened during her life, the story of the very beginning of the Brotherhood, down. And then she hid it. If the Oculatus were to get ahold of it…They would know everything about us, everything about the Night Mother, our Sanctuaries-even about Sithis. They would finish what they stared in Falkreath, if they got their hands on this book." She felt almost breathless when she had finished. She left the talking up to Nazir most of the time, after all. _

_Cicero was clenching his fist repeatedly, staring at her as if he could bore a hole through her. She didn't know whether to stare back or to ignore it, so her gaze flickered between his unrelenting gaze and Rava, who was by far the least opposed to the trip, judging by the fact she was eating now and ignoring the tense air._

_"Cicero will go with you." He finally said. Nazir looked at him, shocked._

_"You? You've barely left the Sanctuary since we arrived! And it's been what, eight years since you last went out on a Contract? What in Sithis' name makes you think you would be able to keep Nora safe-"_

_"Enough, Nazir." Babette's voice silenced the Redguard._

_"Cicero is the only one with working knowledge of the Empire's homeland or of the Sanctuaries outside of Skyrim. It has to be him. And Nora isn't a child. She's assassinated the emperor-she's slain the World-Eater! She can handle herself." Rava was now staring at Babette with no small degree of awe evident in her eyes. Nora couldn't blame her. Babette didn't like socializing much and spent very little time with anyone in the Brotherhood save Nazir._

_"The Unchild is right." Cicero murmured._

_"While we're gone…we might just pay the Oculatus a visit anyway." Nora added light-heartedly. Mat smirked. Glad at least one Dark sibling was on her side, she headed to her chambers. She could feel Cicero following her, but neither of them said anything until she was within the room, lifting the lid of a chest._

_"What's wrong, Cicero?"_

_"….Cicero does not…approve of this." His voice was as cold and hard as it had been before-a shiver ran down her spine. She dropped the lid and turned to face him._

_"Why?" She whispered, stepping forward. He stared at her for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was jagged and rough, unsteady like a blade in the hands of one who had never before killed._

_"The Oculatus are demons, Listener, and Cicero left them behind when he fled with Mother. But he left other demons behind too." _


	2. Chapter 2

I was found half-buried in a snow drift as a newborn, wrapped in nothing except a red cloth and an old string bearing a few beads traditional of an Amulet of Arkay, the other beads scattered in the snow around me, barely visible through the white.

I looked like any other Dunmer baby, save Sithis' manifestation. That, dear Listener, was an oval-shaped patch of ebon flesh on my stomach. Even with the ashen skin of a Dunmer, it stood out.

From what I gather, my parents were probably a priest of Arkay and his wife. When I was born, ruby-eyed, white-haired, and with such a birthmark, they abandoned me. It isn't typical behavior for a priest, which leads me to believe that perhaps my birth mother died in labor, and upon seeing me, stricken with grief, my father ordered me abandoned.

The woman that found me used to tell me that I hadn't been crying in the slightest-if anything, I was happy to be left to the elements in one of the harshest winters Cyrodiil had ever known. I don't know if that was because I had no energy _to_ cry, or if it truly was because I could not feel the cold, but regardless, the woman took me home with her.

I'm sure there are tales of my life you have heard before. Legends that seem more myth than truth. I truly don't believe they contain much of the truth, but….let you be the judge of that, you who knows what I do not.

The woman was a Dunmer prostitute from Bravil. She had left the city a few months before, stomach swollen with an unknown man's child. I do not know where she headed too, but I assume she left for some type of healer or a mage. Somehow, she terminated the child before it was born.

I believe it was this guilt that led her to take me with her.

No one questioned her. I was Dunmer through-and-through, as was she. Most prostitutes sought the father of their children, in an attempt to push the burden onto the man. It wasn't unusual that she had tried to do the same-or that she had apparently failed.

I, like anyone, I suppose, don't recall much of my young childhood. So I'll start where I can remember, dear Listener.

xXxXxXxXxXx

_"Cicero-"_

_"No."_

_"We're going into the heart of-"_

_"No!" Cicero repeated, voice more vehement than before. He appeared as sulky as he was angry, which came as a relief to Nora. She didn't want to see him as cold as he'd been the night before-but this stubbornness was just as bad._

_"It's too conspicuous!" She cried, flinging her arms in exasperation. Cicero's eyes lit with amusement at the gesture but he was smart enough not to say a word. His childish behavior, coupled with the fact he'd been driving Nazir up the walls the past few hours had the entire Sanctuary on edge-the last thing they needed was a dead Keeper and a bloody Listener._

_"As is the Listener, Cicero thinks." Her eyes narrowed._

_"What do you think Mother will say?" She finally snapped. Cicero's eyes narrowed in response._

_A glaring contest ensured, broken only by the snickers issuing from behind her closed door. No doubt it was Mat-despite his wonderful skill with a weapon, he had a very childish sense of humor. And Nora _wondered _why he and Cicero got along so well…._

_"Cicero keeps his hat." The Fool of Hearts finally declared, folding his arms across his chest obstinately and pointedly looking at the wall. Nora very nearly sighed in relief and almost visibly deflated. She could make the hat work-a hood or a cape could conceal it._

_"Fine."_

_A gracious-yet somehow, at the same time sly-smile appeared on his face._

_"Then Cicero will leave the Listener to prepare." He said, gently taping a finger on the tip of her nose as he swept out. She scowled after him. He'd learned the gesture annoyed her when Astrid still lived and, since, had used it to tease her as much as possible._

_All of her belongings already sat neatly packed at the foot of the stairs in the main dining room, save her weapons. Nazir had taken them earlier._

_Nora set out to find him, and did so in the usual way-by following Babette's angry shouting._

_"What do you know about alchemy?!"_

_"Alchemy? Any cook could tell you that th-"_

_"-We aren't talking about any old housewife, Nazir, we are talking about the proper way to grow Elves' Ear, which any alchemist on Tamriel would tell you needs-"_

_"Then point me towards an alchemist!"_

_Nora's eyes went wide as she stepped into the upper floor of the Dining Hall. Nazir and Babette stood before the vampire's small garden, both of them clutching bundles of pale green and yellow plants in their hands. Nora inched around them cautiously. The last time they'd gotten into it like this, Babette had locked Nazir in his room and refused to let him out for an entire day-with Babette's pet Chaurus, Lex. After losing Liz, Babette had decided to raise one. The creature was very tiny-Nora had to check her bed thoroughly each night-and Nazir had spent a week away from home before returning from that one._

_"Nazir…?" She began hesitantly. The Redguard flapped a hand at her pack and she looked at it, mentally sighing in relief when she spotted a bundle lying beside it._

_"Point you towards an_ alchemist_?" Babette repeated, voice dangerously soft. Nora strapped on her blades and shouldered her pack, just as Cicero emerged from downstairs, followed by Rava and Mat. She studied Cicero for a moment. He wore simple clothes common to the miners of Dawnstar-but his hat ruined the effect. She let out a slow sigh, knowing it wasn't a battle she was going to win. _

_Nora went over to them and hugged both of them briefly._

_"An _alchemist_?! Then show me where I can find a-"_

_"Take care of whoever gets injured for me." She whispered to Rava. The dark-haired girl stifled a laugh and nodded, arguing nearly drowning out the sound._

_"Behave for Nazir. I don't want to come back and find you in the Feeding Room." She murmured, clasping both hands on Mat's shoulders. The boy winced, gaze flicking to the room branching off the Dining Hall. Cicero snickered and wandered over to the Night Mother while Nora steeled herself to brave Nazir and Babette's argument._

_"You pig-headed brute of a man!" Babette shouted. Nora pecked the Redguard's cheek and hugged Babette briefly, murmured a goodbye to both of them, and made a dash for the door. Neither of them reacted._

_Cicero was waiting at the Black Door for her. When she bolted past him he chuckled and followed._

_Cold air whipped past her as she stepped out into the Pale and she was glad for the thick clothing she wore. Her armor was stashed at the bottom of her pack, to avoid any unwanted attention. She wore more practical clothing than he did-thick fur armor that any prepared traveler would have, cheap but durable._

_"Do you have everything you need?" She inquired._

_"Sweetrolls, carrots, and daggers. Yes." He declared, patting the bag hanging at his hip._

_"Do we travel across land or water?" She asked, the uncertainty she felt clear in her voice._

_"The Oculatus will be watching the boats, Listener. But the Empire is monitoring the borders." The Keeper shrugged. Nora looked towards Dawnstar's port, and then let out a deep breath._

_"Alright. Maybe there's a boat going out in Dawnstar. If not we'll head towards Falkreath. We'll have to avoid the town, though." She added as an afterthought. Cicero nodded, and the two set off._

xXxXxXxXxXx

"Mama, what's this?"

I was about five at the time. I was small for my age-for a Dunmer, even-and the constant starvation and sickness that wracked the slums of Bravil did not help. I remember my tiny, skeletal figure in the shard of a mirror mother had found while in the richer districts on business. I had pulled my shirt up and was poking at the discolored mark on my stomach. My mother, Talirh Dymeths, was a slender Dunmer, still young and still undeniably beautiful. While most women in her profession grew pale and faded, she remained physically as desirable as she had been when she'd begun. But, mentally? She was distant and vague, never fully there with me unless I did something wrong.

Anger often twisted her pretty face.

She rarely struck me, but she did then. As soon as she'd lifted her head from the cooking pot and seen what I was doing, she crossed the room quicker than I had ever seen her before. She slapped me, grabbing my hand and jerking me away from the mirror piece.

"Do _not_ touch that, Saeunn!" She hissed, shaking me. My head snapped back painfully and I nodded, tears gather in the corners of my eyes. Looking back on it, it was a miracle she broke nothing.

She let me go as soon as I'd nodded. I knew better than to ask why. I fled the house.

It had been a cold winter and the dirt streets were churned into a cold muddy mess. My bare feet sank into the muck as I struggled down the road, but I didn't look back.

Even in such terrible conditions the roads were choked with traffic. Adults dragging carts or driving mules pushed past. Children wove in between. I stuck as close to the wall as I could, but I still got clipped on the shoulder by a particularly malicious woman.

I turned a corner and hurried to a stop between a couple of barrels-in particular, one marked with a circle within a closed diamond. I settled myself into a small spot of dry ground, nursing my cheek silently.

I didn't have long to wait-Emer found me quickly.

He was a thin boy with unruly ashen hair, and, like most in the slums of Bravil, a half-blooded Dunmer. His eyes, a darker red than most Dunmer, and the bronze tint to his skin betrayed his father as a Redguard.

Our mothers often worked together. We were usually left to our own devices with stern instructions not to wander off without the other present. As he lived only a few shacks down from Mother's, we were rarely seen apart despite the two year age difference. He was one of the few children who would bother to play with me-although what we did could hardly be considered playing, dear Listener-and I was one of the only children to follow and help him on his infamous escapades.

He dropped down beside me before I'd realized he was there, offered me a grin, and handed me a small stunted apple. I nestled into his side as I ate it, neither of us speaking. He always knew what had happened without having to ask. At the time I regarded him with something close to awe, but looking back on it, it was no surprise, dear Listener. Bruises are quite noticeable.

"Liali and Ulva are busy tonight but Roe said he'd come with us." Emer said quietly, looking extremely pleased with himself. I looked up at him, frowning.

"Where are we going?"

His grin told me that I'd be in for an adventure.

"The Castle." My eyes went wide.

"The Castle?! Emer, but that's-"

"Don't worry. I checked it out last night."

"They'll kill us if we're found out, Emer!" I gasped, jerking up straight and looking at him. A shadow suddenly fell over us and my head snapped up. Emer didn't appear surprised at all-but then, he never was.

Roe's face grinned down at us.

"Sounds like fun."


End file.
